


Healing

by glespa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 11:53:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20339680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glespa/pseuds/glespa
Summary: How Remus heals after the Whomping Willow incident.





	Healing

_ One _

When Remus first opens his eyes, he knows something is wrong. He wakes in a haze of pain, the kind he hasn’t felt since the Marauders figured out how to turn themselves into Animagi. The nails on his hands are rough with dirt and wood. 

He finds himself in the bathroom a lot in the days following. Sometimes sitting, sometimes vomiting. Never has he been so sickened with himself. Never has he been in such pure, animalistic  _ fear _ at the news of what has happened. 

Never has he felt so betrayed. 

He sleeps in the hospital for a week to avoid the Marauders under the pretense of exhaustion, and each time he closes his eyes he sees the hazy memory of the wolf inside, pining for a taste of human flesh and smelling the fear on Severus Snape.

And for the first time in a very long time, Remus has to relearn something that was once second nature: He must pick up the pieces without the support of friends. 

They give him space for the first two weeks, allowing him to slip quietly from rooms when they enter with only a guilty look. But on the Monday of the third week, Sirius stops him in the entrance of the Great Hall. 

“Moony…” Sirius pleads, stretching his forearm out to stop Remus. Remus halts obediently, but cannot bring himself to look the boy in the eyes. 

Sirius. 

Remus regards the Marauder with a sort of unfocused glaze. He does not know this boy. He knows the boy with the soft inky hair and the fierce, mischievous spirit. He knows the boy with the dark eyes who once accidentally turned himself into half of a dog in an effort to ease Remus’s pain. He knows the boy who skipped class until he received a detention from every teacher, and still refused to attend in order to become an Animagus by the next full moon. 

But this boy, standing in front of him, cheekbones too sharp and eyes too bright with unsaid feelings of guilt; this boy is unrecognizable. 

Remus pushes past him.

_ Two _

Break comes. Remus goes home to his mother’s peppermint teas and his father’s warm hugs. 

Owls come for him with letters. Remus gets as far as opening the seal before he feels as if he is being choked. He throws the letters into his desk drawer and sits until his breath evens out again. 

Somehow, being home hurts more than being at Hogwarts. 

He drafts an apology letter for Severus Snape. 

Mostly, he sits in his bedroom and traces the claw marks on the walls. One night, he wakes with his heart in his throat, and stares down at his hands in the darkness, unsure if he is imagining the blood on them. 

And finally, he bends his head in his hands and cries. The tears come quickly, and to his surprise he finds himself gasping for air. Remus takes his pillow and buries his face in it. 

He cries for a long time, silently and in the comfort of his own bed. When his tears transition into quiet hiccups, Remus looks out the window at the slow crawl of the sunrise. 

The moon is a crescent, illuminating the front lawn with a silvery sheen. In the horizon, a reddish glow is emerging.

The vomit crawls up his neck, and it takes him several seconds before Remus can swallow it back down, the lingering taste of acid stinging his throat.

He forces himself to lie down and close his eyes.  _ Severus Snape is alive. Severus Snape is unharmed. You are not a murderer.  _

And in the back of his mind, in Sirius’s voice:  _ You are not a monster. _

James’s arm slinging around him the day he finds out:  _ It’s just a furry little problem, is all. _

Peter’s big eyes gazing up at him:  _ Eat some chocolate. It always makes you feel better, Moony. _

Sirius’s laugh. James’s nudges. Peter’s hugs. Sirius. James. Peter. Sirius. James. Peter.

Shakily, Remus pulls out a dark chocolate bar underneath his pillow and unwraps the foil. He breaks off a piece and chews. 

It does make him feel better. 

_ Three _

Remus rides the train alone back to Hogwarts.

When he arrives in the dormitory, the rest of them are already there. Sirius is in bed, the lump rising and falling indicating he was in deep sleep. 

“He went home,” James says, as an explanation. His voice is cautious. Next to him, Peter looks between the two of them in a wary manner. 

Remus swallows. “I see,” he says back as sincerely as he can. He finds that his anger for James and Peter had dissipated a long time ago. They had not known about it beforehand. And so it is with an equal level of cautiousness that Remus rifles through his bag and awkwardly holds out his half-eaten chocolate bar. 

“Chocolate?” He says, unnecessarily.  _ Forgive me.  _

There is a second of silence, and the roaring feeling of something ruined pushes up at Remus’s chest, but then Peter reaches out and takes the bar. “Almond! My favorite.” 

“Blech,” exclaims James, shoving Peter away. “Everyone knows crisp is superior.” But he looks back at Remus, and they share a smile. 

Remus glances over at the lump that is Sirius and pauses to consider. He isn’t ready to forgive. Not to him. 

Remus pulls his trunk over to his own bed and unlocks it. 

_ Four _

Something is wrong with Sirius. 

Remus sits with them again, though he has yet to acknowledge Sirius in any way. He expected that Sirius would be upset, but the boy is constantly exhausted. James passes him worried glances, but won’t tell Remus what the problem is. 

Sirius sits with James in most of his classes, quiet and tired. 

Remus isn’t quite ready to forgive Sirius, but he cannot stop himself from examining the Gryffindor any chance he gets. 

“Mr. Black!” 

Turning around, Remus catches Sirius jerking up in his seat. Professor Mcgonagall freezes him with her piercing glare. 

“Perhaps you would like to explain  _ why _ you are sleeping in my class, Mr. Black?”

After nearly five years of living with Sirius, Remus can taste the cheeky response at the tip of his tongue. But to his surprise, Sirius responds with a small shrug. 

Professor Mcgonagall is startled as well, but she recovers easily. “Perhaps you can answer me in detention then, Black.” She hesitates, then adds, “And see me after class.” 

And suddenly, with the full force of something that has been hiding for a week now, Remus feels the anger rake up his stomach. How  _ dare _ Sirius mope and sulk when he has committed something so... _ unforgivable. _ How can he sit there and wallow when it was Remus who nearly tore another student apart for a practical joke? 

Peter puts a hand on Remus’s arm, and it is then that he realizes he is shaking. 

After class, Remus shakes off Peter and James. He waits outside of the classroom for Sirius to come out, fury building with each minute he is forced to fidget out in the hallway. 

Finally, Sirius steps out, eyes tired, and without another word Remus slams the boy up against the wall. 

Sirius lets out a cry of surprise, the first emotion other than resignation for the first time in days, and shuts his mouth immediately when Remus fishes his wand out of his pocket and shoves it up at his throat. 

“Remus,” whispers Sirius. He tries to say more, but the words seem to get caught up in his throat and he closes his mouth. 

Remus examines the boy before him. And just as suddenly as it has appeared, his anger fades. 

Because no matter how hard Remus tries, he will always recognize Sirius. 

His wand is still pressed against Sirius’s neck, and the hex is still sitting nestled in his tongue, but when Remus opens his mouth it is not a jinx that comes out but, “Finite Incantatem.” 

Sirius flinches hard, but does not move even after Remus has released him. He looks back at Remus. 

With the murmur of a counter spell, Sirius’s glamour has melted away. The dark circles emerge immediately, filling in the space under his eyes until they look like bruises. And on the side of his cheek and his right eye, a real bruise. Large and purpling, with only the yellowing at the edges to indicate the slow healing process. Two scabs resting on his lip tells Remus that his lip has been split open not once, but twice. 

Remus finds himself without words. 

“Mcgonagall wrote to Mother and Father about the pr - the incident,” says Sirius weakly. He looks away. “I didn’t want you to know because, well. You were angry, and -”

Remus pulls Sirius into a hug. 

It must look odd, he speculates somewhere far in his mind, two blokes just standing in the empty hallway embracing. 

But the part of him that is present registers that one hand has crept up to cradle Sirius’s head, running his fingers through his hair and pressing it against his own shoulder. He feels Sirius reach up and cling to him, and hears himself whispering, over and over.  _ Sirius.  _

And then Sirius is speaking as well, gasping out his apology again and again. But Remus’s response is to pull him closer and squeeze until he feels he has probably bruised both of Sirius’s arms. For those few moments, Remus thinks of nothing except for how much he has missed his best friend. 

Vaguely, he can tell Sirius is crying, his entire body trembling with the force of one trying to hold in sobs. And this, this very moment, is how Remus Lupin realizes that he will always forgive Sirius. And that in the process of healing himself, perhaps Sirius will too.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! leave a comment to make my day.
> 
> \- sam


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